The Things Your Eyes Have Seen
by whatswiththemustache
Summary: Newt had left Tina standing on the docks of New York, and then he'd sailed away and he hadn't come back. One year later, Tina decides it's time that she found him.


"Hello?"

Porpentina Goldstein carefully pushed open the door to the shabby room, having already knocked and, when that failed, opening it herself. It was rather dark inside, and she called out again.

"Hello? Newt?"

There was no answer for a long second – and then the distant, tinkling sound of shattering glass met her ears. It drew her eyes to the shape of a suitcase, lying open upon the neatly made bed. Tina felt suddenly flustered, straightening almost guiltily. She turned slightly, reaching out to the half-opened door and considering whether or not she should close it completely, or open it all the way. After a few seconds intense debate, she drew her hand back and didn't do anything at all. Just then, the sound of light footsteps drifted up from within the case; she turned back around with a start, clasping her hands together firmly.

She watched anxiously, and for a moment there was nothing – then, just the top of a head. Light red-brown hair, mussed and wild. Another endless second and the rest of his face emerged – and with that, Tina abruptly remembered just how much she'd missed him. He was wearing that curious, startled look; wide eyes, raised eyebrows, flat mouth. His hair was just as ridiculous as she remembered it, if not more so. Before she knew it, Tina was smiling broadly, and Newt just gaped at her slightly.

He finally blinked, maintaining his stunned stare; she thought it might have been the longest that he'd ever looked at her, all in one go. "Tina," breathed Newt in wonderment.

The laugh that wanted to break free escaped as a happy scoff, and Tina shrugged her shoulders slightly, grinning. "Hello, Newt."

His stunned expression sharpened into one of dazed puzzlement, and he frowned at her in confusion. "What…how d'you…" He trailed off, blinking several times in a row before clearing his throat. "Erm – hello. Not to be – rude, but, um, what're you doing here?" His brow was pinched tightly in thought, and the wide look in his eyes made her think that he wasn't entirely sure that this was real.

Tina bit her lip, pausing. "I came to find you," she finally said, deciding on the simple answer. Newt nodded slowly, looking no less confused.

"–Right." He stared for a moment, the next question dangling in the air. "Sorry, but, erm – you came to – to London _,_ to find me?"

Tina nodded, feeling her smile fade slightly as a familiar seed of doubt crept back into her mind – what if Newt hadn't returned to New York for a reason? What if he'd changed his mind about her, about whatever it was that they might have had? What if he'd reunited with Leta Lestrange, after all? The questions attacked Tina with full force, and she glanced away with a tight swallow. She was about to say something, though just what she wasn't sure – when Newt nodded slowly, forming a round 'o' with his lips.

"Oh," he said abruptly, as if the implications had settled in all at once. And just like that, he broke into a smile that almost immediately widened into a full-blown, delighted grin. It was funny, how quickly that bright-eyed grin could wash away Tina's doubts.

They just stood there, smiling at each other, for a good long moment. It ended when Newt blinked in sudden realization, as if he'd only just remembered that he was currently standing inside his suitcase with nothing but his head poked out. He coughed slightly, ducking his head. "Erm – sorry," said Newt quickly, and he wore an awkward grimace as he hastily clambered out of the case. From there, he hopped down off of the rickety bed and then turned to snap the case shut, lingering there for a moment. When he turned back around to face her, he only glanced up to meet her eyes for a second before his gaze darted away again. He clasped his hands, winding his fingers together before pulling them apart once more – the very picture of nervous energy.

He cleared his throat again, eyes finally darting up for more than half a second as he smiled at her again, this time more hesitant. "It's good to see you," said Newt, drawing a quick breath. Tina nodded, taking a half step forward.

"It's good to see you too," she said earnestly. Hearing him say those words was almost like erasing all of the time that had gone by since their last meeting – almost. All of her questions were still burning on her tongue, but this was something that she'd been anticipating for ages now.

Newt's smile widened again in a flash of happiness before his gaze darted away once again. A moment of quiet went by, and he seemed to spend it with his next sentence dangling off the tip of his tongue. "I hadn't – erm – I hadn't forgotten, you know," he said quickly, almost in reassurance – for who, though, she didn't know. "About, well – returning to New York, visiting you. I was still…" He trailed off, eyes firmly locked on a spot located somewhere on the wall to his right.

Tina nodded her head quickly, moving closer. "I know," she said, and she did. She could only see sincerity in everything Newt did. She'd honestly expected that she would arrive with accusations, albeit unheated ones; it was strange, but as soon as she'd caught sight of Newt once again, they'd all gone out of her head. The very thought of accusing him of anything at all was painful. There was something…something about the way he held himself, the way his eyes darted here and there. Something was wrong.

Tina stood watching him while he fidgeted ever-so-slightly, avoiding her gaze. He drew a hasty breath, eyebrows twitching. "Erm, I wonder – if you don't mind my asking – but, er, how did you find me?" He looked up that time, a hint of curiosity lighting his eyes.

She shrugged, smiling crookedly. "It didn't take very much asking around," admitted Tina. She cast her eyes around the room. "The Leaky Cauldron is a pretty popular place, I guess. Honestly, I – uh, I didn't really expect to find you here, but…" Her smile bloomed again, as if she had absolutely no control over the matter. She didn't mind, and neither, it seemed, did Newt; he nodded at her words, and returned her smile with a bright but fleeting one of his own.

After a pause, he replied. "I'm glad you did."

Tina watched as he stilled again, and she felt her resolve slowly return to her. It was as if all other routes in conversation had locked themselves away, leaving only one. She pressed her lips together, feeling her brow pinch slightly as she took a deep breath.

"Newt," said Tina slowly, with no trace of accusation in her voice – only lingering confusion, faint disappointment, and a trace of sadness that she couldn't suppress. "What happened?"

He looked up slowly, finally meeting her eyes, and he didn't look away. With his eyebrows raised fractionally, forehead wrinkled ever-so-slightly, his expression seemed to contain a sliver of guilt. He opened his mouth slightly but said nothing, and Tina continued after a pause.

"…It's been a year. I thought you'd have gotten your book published by now. I kept an eye out for it, just in case, but…"

Newt grimaced, blinking, and straightened slightly, tugging at his sleeve. "I'm sorry," he said abruptly, averting his gaze. He swayed fractionally – rocking back and forth on his heels, he stared hard at the ground. "But I've, um – I've stopped."

Tina frowned, shaking her head. "Stopped?"

He pressed his lips tightly together, as if he were trying to force the words out. "Writing. My book, that is."

Tina felt her shoulders slump slightly, heard her breath flee her lungs with a sigh. She remembered how he'd talked about that book, a year ago; she remembered the feel of the narrow notebook that he'd pressed into her hands along with his case, when he'd asked her to stay behind and protect them. It had been worn with loving dedication. She frowned quietly, brow crinkled in mournful disappointment.

"Why would you stop?" Her words were slow and heavy.

Newt reached up to tug at his coat, shuffling his shoulders beneath it – he chewed his jaw, blinked a few times, and seemed to be unable to not fidget in some obscure way. His reply was quick, when it came, and there was a definite note of persuasive effort in his words. "I nearly finished it," he said, nodding firmly. "Not quite. I was still going to bring you your copy, you know; I hadn't changed my mind." He glanced up to meet her eyes there, proving the truth of his words.

"But I, um… didn't get it published, in the end. It just, er…didn't…" He shook his head with a soft smile that seemed like it wanted to be a frown.

Tina wanted desperately to understand, to help, to do _something_ because that thinly veiled, wounded look in Newt's eyes really had no right to be there. "Why?" she asked softly.

Her question made him go still once again. He froze, lost in thought or perhaps just searching for words, for a long moment. Finally – he sighed with a slight downwards slump, and his gaze flickered upwards. "Nobody wants to read about magical creatures, Tina," he said quietly. "Not in the way that I write about them, anyway."

The words sank into Tina's mind, slow and sad and pained. Newt's frame was slightly hunched, as ever, but he looked somehow defeated, and she couldn't imagine what could have possibly happened to make him look that way. But in the back of her mind, words from a year ago rose up to taunt her.

… _I'm writing a book about magical creatures._

 _Like an extermination guide?_

The look on his face back then had been disappointed, almost dejected, but certainly very much unsurprised. Now, Tina frowned sadly, wondering just how many times he'd heard words like hers.

"After I returned to England last year, I didn't stay– traveled for a bit more," said Newt haltingly. "Just to add a couple finishing touches to my research, and to look for a few more creatures that I'd heard rumor of. Not that far – I stopped at Italy – France – up at Scandinavia…I even stumbled upon a small herd of hippogriffs, wandering around Versailles, of all places." He grinned quickly, an amused light flashing in his eyes, but it was short lived. After a pause, he cleared his throat shortly, looking away.

"But I, ah… I took too long, I was – careless. They've got strict rules about magical creatures in France, perhaps even stricter than yours in America, these days. I s'pose none of their aurors had had any experience with one before…erm, they didn't know how to handle them. Hippogriffs are – quite touchy. One wizard got too close – a little slashed up, nothing too serious, but…the Muggles had seen, so…"" Newt sniffed, pressing his lips into a tight line. "They killed them. Four grown Hippogriffs, one foal, couldn't have been more than six months old. I – I tried to stop them, but…"

He trailed off, unmoving, before quickly reaching up to swipe at his eyes with the back of his hand. Tina felt like her lungs were caving in – she opened her mouth to speak, tilting her head reflexively, when Newt spoke up again. It was as if he'd somehow opened the floodgates, letting through all of the words that he normally wouldn't say at all.

"After that, I went up north – I'd heard tell of a roguish Ramora that had been sighted in northern Finland. It was a bit tricky to find, but there weren't any wizards who'd caught on faster, this time – but I did find it, in the end. ...Beached, on the coast near Helsinki. The Muggles must have harpooned him. I s'pose he might have given them a fright or two, as they tend to upend boats occasionally, and…well."

"So, er, I sort of – kept going, I suppose. Word of strange beasts travels fast, usually, and sometimes I get there in time to save them. I've got quite a collection now, in my case–" He smiled at said suitcase, sitting quietly on the mottled bed. "I do try and take them back where they belong, whenever I can. But – well, sometimes they're not wanted there, either. So we stick together. This is, um, actually only the second time that I've been back in England since last year. I only came because one of the dragons at Gringotts is ill. One of the Goblins, I helped him out with an infestation of Chizpurfles once – he sent for me. The dragon – she's a Peruvian Vipertooth, quite stunning really, despite everything. The Goblins didn't know what was wrong with her – she'd stopped eating for a while. Never thought to wonder about that fact that dragons aren't meant to be locked in a cave," he said, muttering the last sentence with slight reproach.

Tina frowned, sensing that terrible quietness that Newt had about him again. "Will she be alright?"

Newt stilled, and his eyes seemed to go very far away. "No," he says simply, his voice not quite even. "She's dying. There's nothing I can do." He sniffed slightly and started fidgeting again, averting his eyes. "I haven't told them yet. I – um, I didn't think the Goblins would find much use in feeding and caring for a dragon that's on her deathbed."

Every word he said seemed to pile up, pressing down on his shoulders, or perhaps over the room in general, because Tina was fairly certain that she could feel the weight of it, too. She closed her eyes, feeling tears prick at her like hot irons. "I'm sorry," she said thickly, blinking.

Newt slowly shook his head, his expression carefully neutral. He glanced up her, then – slowly, cautiously. "It's just, erm," he started, followed by a short pause. "It seems – that everywhere I go, every time I find another creature somewhere out there – there's always someone else who wants to hurt it, or use it, or – drive it off, anything but just accept it. Everywhere – people laugh at the idea of a book that talks of magical creatures in a good light. And then they – they just hurt them, destroy them. Whenever they can."

Newt's eyes were suspiciously bright, and all trace of a smile had faded from his face. "And I just – I can't understand it. I don't understand them at all. Why… why does everyone else want to kill the very creatures that I want to protect?"

He was looking at her, the question burning in his teary eyes, and Tina couldn't speak – she felt her forehead pinch as she pressed her lips together, trying not to cry herself. She shook her head quickly, hair flying. "Not everyone, Newt," exclaimed Tina firmly. "Not everyone."

Newt looked at her, nodding slowly. "No, I suppose not," he agreed, with a smile that was faint but true. "I really was quite lucky to have met you, Tina."

"No, it was the other way around," insisted Tina, shaking her head again. She paused, gathering her words. "If I hadn't met you, Newt - everything would be different. I wouldn't have…it's just… You showed me an entire new way of living, Newt. You are making a _difference_. And I am _so_ _thankful_ for that." She smiled at him then, sure that her eyes were red with tears, but she didn't care.

Newt's eyes were wide with a stunned look of faint disbelief, eyebrows raised incredulously; he swallowed audibly, and his gaze flitted away. "I - well, I - I'm glad," managed Newt. "But, well - sometimes, it doesn't feel that way."

Head bowed slightly, shoulders slumped, Newt looked - well, he looked like he had long since given up. It hurt Tina's heart to see. Before she knew it, she was moving forward, and suddenly she found herself reaching up to wrap him in a tight embrace. Newt stiffened slightly, at first - Tina only hugged him closer, and then he slowly reached his long arms around to hug her back. Tina buried her face in his coat, breathing in the scent of leather and dust and an entire array of other, Newt-like things. They stood like that for a long, blissful, tearful moment - she turned her head slightly, whispering quietly into his ear.

"It's going to be okay." She hoped that it was true.

When they pulled away from each other, Tina was smiling softly and Newt watched her openly, a quiet look of wonderment on his face. He blinked rapidly, eyes darting away like always, before he gradually opened his mouth to speak.

"…I think I was wrong, Tina." Newt said slowly, bringing his gaze to meet hers again – it seemed like quite a painful process, but when he did, there was only sincerity in his eyes. "I think I was wrong in deciding not to come to New York to see you sooner. I think – well. I think it might have done me some good."

Tina tilted her head to the side, smiling sadly. "I'm here now."


End file.
